Poems by Rebekah Smith Part 14

Forgotten be the trials past, The present meekly borne; Our burdens cast upon the Lord, Who comforts those that mourn.

With heavenly wisdom we shall know What G.o.d would have us do; While moving in his order on, Our hope and strength renew.

Revived and strengthened we're prepared To spread the truth abroad, Beseeching men in Jesus' stead, Be reconciled to G.o.d.

Then jewels will be gathered in, The church built up again, And all prepared to meet the Lord, Who's coming soon to reign.

The Race and Warfare.

Are we loitering on the way To the realms of endless day?

Sleep we on while danger's near?

Have we nought to dread or fear?

Let us heed the call, Awake!

Our eternal all's at stake; One false step our fate may seal, Ruin, soon our souls may feel.

Foes our every move to spy, All around in ambush lie; Watching, they will take the place Left unfortified by grace.

Oh! what havoc then is made, Structures fair in ruin laid; Messengers driven from the field, Those who should be valiant, yield.

Some who started to go through Now a wicked course pursue; What account must soon be given!

Why thus sink in sight of Heaven?

Flee, oh! flee the tempter's snare!

There is power with G.o.d in prayer; He is ready to forgive, Saying, Look to me and live.

The Darkness of Despair.

The heart knows its bitterness, thought 't may be said, You are happy and blest all the while; The depth of your misery, your burden of sin May in anguish be hid 'neath a smile.

Thy waves and thy billows are over me gone, With the Psalmist, I mournfully say, And ask, Why cast down? Why disquieted, opprest?

'Tis why I've no heart now to pray?

Has the Spirit been grieved? Has it taken its flight?

To this desolate self am I left?

And merited sure, naught else is deserved, But to be thus of comfort bereft.

I groan, being burdened, and cannot look up, By reason of sin's dread array, O keep back from sins, and from secret faults cleanse, Or despairing, I sink in dismay.

Sin hardens, and blinds, and shuts up in despair; The way of transgressors is hard, Its end is destruction, its wages are death, Thus forever from Heaven debarred.

This anguish of spirit, this sad state of the soul, I must bear though I may not submit.

G.o.d is just though I perish, his throne remains pure, However many he may not acquit.

Oh! for one gleam of hope, thus to break the dread spell, By which I in misery seem bound; Naught of earth, but the power of Heaven must heal Sin's painful, sin's deep, bleeding wound.

Should I ever again meet the smiles of my G.o.d, Should I ever his praise again sing, In rapturous song I would swell the grand theme, And my tribute of thanksgiving bring.

Oh! here is the mystery,--give glory to G.o.d; The blessing is coming e'en now.

I'll sing hallelujah, I'll praise and adore, And low in humility bow.

With the Psalmist, I cry, Come praise ye the Lord, Praise and glory to G.o.d now belong; My heart with my hands, lift to G.o.d in the Heavens, Giving praise with the angelic throng.

This praise ne'er will end; the redeemed will unite, And with angels, G.o.d's glory repeat.

To the pure tree of life all will there have a right, And the fruit of the vineyard will eat.

How blest to know Jesus our Lord will be there, The glory and light of the place.

And the song which forever will rise on its air, Will be sung to his sovereign grace.

The Latter Rain.

We may look for a Pentecost season to dawn When the saints through the purifying process have gone; When Jesus' loved image in them we can trace, Reflecting the glory of full sovereign grace.

Who then will not wish when this glory they see To join in the song, Hallelujah, we're free!

Yea, free in the Lord, while our voices we raise In victory's songs and hosannas of praise.

The true melting Spirit is felt from the Lord, And light and instruction shine out from his word.

G.o.d's power is made known and his glory displayed, While scoffers will feel that they need Heaven's aid.

Who here long can stand with his sins unconfessed?

May all be searched out, and G.o.d's people be blessed.

Confess ye your faults, and thus honor your King, And into his store-house your offerings bring.

'Tis a cross-bearing way by which Heaven is obtained; In humility's vale is the victory gained.

True love there prevails; and our sins are forgiven, While union and strength mark the pilgrims for Heaven.

The Hour of Judgment.

The time has come, that all-important day, When sins must be confessed and washed away!

When hearts must feel, and conscience' voice be heard In swift obedience to G.o.d's holy word.

"Be zealous and repent," is G.o.d's command.

We must in humble ranks united stand.